


For Now

by MachaSWicket



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachaSWicket/pseuds/MachaSWicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY:  Written in exchange for snooboostoo's generous donation to tsunami relief efforts.  As requested, Gilmore Girls fic:  post-ep for "Wedding Bell Blues."</p><p>ORIGINALLY POSTED:  Feb 2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Now

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to ASP and the WB.
> 
> THANKS: To Cath. :)

_For now._

Luke stumbled out of that damn country club, still stinging from Emily's barbs and Christopher's claims and Lorelai's revelation. The cold air burned his lungs, burned his eyes, and Luke blinked, rubbing his forehead. 

 

The words rankled, getting past every last shield Luke had erected and hitting him right where it hurt. Because Lorelai was _it_ for him, and he'd known that for years, even if he hadn't really let himself _know_ it. But half of what kept him from doing anything about it was his fear that, for Lorelai, no one would ever be _it_ , especially not him. Because he'd watched her for years, watched her get close to something real and go spinning away, always keeping things _for now_. 

She'd always had an excuse -- Rory, the Inn -- but the end result was the same. Lorelai was a serial monogamist, a woman who consistently bailed out after a few months, when it became apparent that whoever she was with wanted more than _for now_.

How in the hell had Luke managed to convince himself it'd be any different with him?

Stumbling a little, he found her Jeep right where they'd left it hours ago, shining dully in the late, late afternoon sunlight. Luke stopped, leaning against the bumper and waiting, but he counted to forty-eight and she still hadn't appeared. Whatever stupid hope he'd had that she would come after him, that she would put him ahead of Christopher, sputtered and died.

 _Well, how do you like that_ , he thought. _Emily Gilmore is right_.

This very morning, he'd thought they had a good thing going, and he'd stupidly thought that being dragged to the Gilmores' renewal ceremony was a positive sign. Walking into Lorelai's house, the cheerful acceptance from Rory and Lorelai -- they were starting to feel like a real family to Luke. Well, he'd always considered them family, but he was starting to think that Lorelai and Rory thought of him the same way.

Turns out, it was only a _for now_ thing.

Muttering curses under his breath, Luke dug out his wallet and looked for a piece of paper to leave a note. He saw that damn horoscope and considered leaving that stuck under her windshield -- she'd certainly understand the symbolism. But even after all of the shit he'd heard in the past hour, he wasn't really ready to give up. So he dug out a crinkled receipt from his meat guy and then realized he didn't have a pen. 

"Dammit." 

Luke jogged over to the valet, requested a cab, and borrowed a pen. As he stood beside her Jeep, contemplating what to write, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Luke pulled it out and looked, not quite expecting the stab of pain when he saw her name on the readout. With a vicious stab, he powered the phone off, scrawled a message on the paper, and stuck it under her windshield wiper.

When he reached the valet again, a banged up yellow cab was waiting. And Lorelai still hadn't appeared, desperately searching for him to tell him he'd gotten the wrong impression. Maybe this would work out for the best for her, he thought bitterly as he slipped into the cab and barked an address. This way, it wasn't her fault -- he'd walked out. She just hadn't come after him.

Because Christopher was drunk and Christopher needed a friend and why the hell she continued to give that irresponsible punk the benefit of the doubt was completely beyond Luke. As hard as he fought the notion, the only thing that made sense was that for Lorelai, Christopher was _it_.

Luke fixed her house and bought her an ice rink and ordered yellow workboots for her on a whim, and she lied about spending the night with Christopher. 

Leaning his head back against the seat, Luke decided he should never have started this thing, should never have put all his cards on the table. Because he might be a solid, stand-up guy, but maybe he couldn't ever really be more to her than the guy who made the great coffee. He certainly couldn't ever be Rory's biological father, or Lorelai's first love, or the kind of guy Emily and Richard would accept for their daughter.

What killed him, what absolutely killed him is that he understood why Emily and Richard wanted only the best for their daughter. Luke felt the same exact way about Rory. But Luke knew for damn sure what he'd do if Rory ever brought home a spoiled, selfish man like Christopher. Apparently, character didn't matter to Emily and Richard; all they cared about was breeding, and Luke would never be good enough for Lorelai.

Luke told himself he could live with that, that he could accept _not_ being accepted by her parents, as long as she wanted him. But the hard, cold, painful truth was that she only wanted him _for now_.

"We're here," the cab driver said.

Luke blinked, staring out at Sniffy's Tavern. "Great," he muttered, handing over the fare plus 20 percent. "Thanks."

He slid out of the cab and walked stiffly to the door. It was still pretty early, the dinner hour wasn't even in full swing. Luke walked in and glanced around, looking for Maize. She noticed him and lit up, waving as she crossed the large dining area to his side. 

But when she got closer, Maize's brow furrowed and she opened both arms for a hug. "What's wrong, dear?"

Luke closed his eyes and hugged her back. "Nothing," he muttered.

Maize pulled back and stared up at him with a frown. "You're a horrible liar, Luke. And you're wearing a suit."

"Oh," Luke said, glancing down. "I had a thing," he explained dismissively.

"A thing that ended badly," Maize surmised, ushering him to his favorite booth. But Luke stopped short -- he'd brought Lorelai here and they'd sat at that table and he'd told her he loved her, in so many words. 

"Oh, Luke," Maize said softly, her hand rubbing his back comfortingly. "Come with me."

Numbly, Luke followed her clear across the dining room to a booth tucked in the back, where he could brood. "Thanks, Maize." 

* * *

Rory trailed her mother on their way out to the Jeep, caught halfway between concern and irritation. "Mom, don't you think people will wonder why we left so suddenly?" Because if this was supposed to be some sort of punishment for the Logan thing, her mother was seriously out of line. Rory was an adult, and if she wanted to kiss Logan, then she would kiss Logan.

Before Rory could work up a good head of steam, Lorelai shook her head wordlessly. Her mother hadn't said more than "Get your stuff," in the past twenty minutes, and had stood, stiffly, in the foyer waiting for Rory to obey. Rory had simply waved at Logan and hooked her thumb in her mother's direction, telling him without words that she had to go. Not that she was particularly looking forward to the tense drive back to Stars Hollow with her mother and Luke after that horrible scene with dad and Luke and mom.

Rory hustled, heels clattering on the pavement as she caught up to her mother, growing more and more exasperated. Emily had looked devastated when Rory hugged her goodbye, and Rory couldn't help but wonder if her mother was just doing this to irritate Grandma, since the seating chart thing hadn't panned out. "Don't you think Luke will wonder why we left him here?" Rory demanded. "He didn't seem too happy to be here in the first place."

Lorelai winced, but still didn't answer aloud, and Rory noticed with a jolt that her mother was fighting tears. 

"Mom." Rory reached out and grabbed Lorelai's arm, pulling her to a halt. "Mom, what's wrong?" 

"I can't," Lorelai said in a horrible, strangled voice.

"What happened?" Rory pressed, starting to panic a little. Because her mother didn't just shut down like this unless something was very, very wrong. "Did something happen with Luke?"

Lorelai twisted her arm free and all but ran the last few steps to the Jeep. Then she stopped short and Rory could hear her gasp. 

"Mom?" Rory sprinted to her mother's side, twisting her ankle in the damn heels and not even caring. "Mom, what's--?" Lorelai was holding a scrap of paper in one trembling hand. Rory looked back and froth from the paper to her mother's stricken expression. "Can I...?" She reached carefully for the note.

With a shaky breath, Lorelai handed it over and tried to smile. "You drive." She stumbled around the front of the car as Rory unfolded the note.

It said, 

_L--  
I'll get a cab.   
Luke._

Rory stared at the words, trying to make sense of such a cryptic note. Trying to figure out what could have gone so horribly wrong in the span of a couple hours. When she looked up, Lorelai was sitting in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, her eyes shut tight. Tears sparkled on her cheeks.

Tucking the note in her pocket, Rory tossed their garment bags into the backseat and got into the Jeep. She'd only ever seen her mother like this a few times, and it always left Rory feeling like an inept twelve-year-old, without a clue how to comfort her mother. 

She twisted the key in the ignition, wincing when Radiohead blared from the speakers. Rory flipped the radio off and glanced at her mother, but Lorelai gave no indication that she'd even heard. She was shivering, wearing only her decorative shawl over her dress. Rory paused before pulling onto the main road and reached back, dragging Lorelai's winter coat into the front seat and tucking it carefully around her mother.

Briefly, Lorelai opened her eyes and smiled. "Thanks, kid."

The devastation in her mother's tone pained Rory, but she did her best to be upbeat. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," Lorelai said, letting her purse drop out of her grip and tumble to the floor. She pulled the coat higher, but she was still shaking.

Frustrated, Rory stole glances at her mother as she pulled into traffic and headed for Stars Hollow. "Do you want to talk about it?" Not that Rory knew what _it_ was.

"No," her mother said again. 

For nearly ten miles, the only sound in the Jeep was the motor's hum and Lorelai's occasional sniffles. Then, as Rory turned onto route 14, Lorelai whispered, "It's just that I'm used to screwing things up myself. And I wasn't going to this time, Rory. I swear I wasn't."

Frowning, Rory considered the implications. Then she pulled the Jeep onto the shoulder and turned to her mother. "Did Dad do this? Did he screw this up? Because I warned him--"

"No," Lorelai interrupted in that hollow voice. "I don't want you to blame your father, Rory." She closed her eyes again, shaking her head slowly. "I don't want you to blame anyone."

More confused than before, Rory pleaded, "Mom, would you please tell me what happened? Why did Luke leave? Who screwed things up?"

"I can't," Lorelai said, and her voice broke on a sob. She brought both hands up to her face, and Rory unhooked her seatbelt and leaned over, hugging her mother as tightly as the awkward angle would allow. 

"I'm sorry, Mom," Rory whispered, as her mother struggled with tears. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Luke woke with a stiff back and an aching head, realizing somewhat belatedly that he'd spent the night on a couch. As he struggled to sit upright, he glanced around until he recognized a picture of his parents. Maize and Buddy's place. A moment later, and the rest of his night came back. 

The Gilmores' party.

Christopher and Lorelai.

The cab ride.

Many, many beers.

He struggled to his feet, stumbling a little because his limbs felt a bit wobbly. When he glanced down at his pants and saw how wrinkled they were, he decided to throw them out. He wasn't a suit kind of guy anyway, never would be. Muttering to himself, Luke wandered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then tore open the new toothbrush waiting for him by the side of the sink. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was vaguely respectable looking -- if in desperate need of a shower -- and he found Maize in the Tavern. "Thanks, Maize," he told her. "I appreciate it."

She nodded kindly. "Buddy's going to drive you home. We let you sleep in, but I called the diner around 8 and Caesar was there."

"Good," Luke muttered. He waited out front, his suitjacket dangling from one hand, until Buddy pulled up with the Saab. The drive to Stars Hollow was mercifully brief and Buddy said very little. "Thanks, Buddy," Luke said, sliding out of the car and heading into the diner. 

Behind the counter, Lane froze in place, her eyes wide. "Luke. You're here." Lane had obviously talked to Rory and knew at least the broad outlines of what had happened the night before.

Grimacing, Luke pointed at the staircase. "I'm taking a shower." He hadn't believed Lorelai's Totsie story the night before, but his clothes really did smell of that sickly, overpowering floral perfume the woman wore.

A half hour later, Luke felt slightly less disgusting, though no less depressed. His bad morning got immeasurably worse when he stepped into the diner and saw Rory seated at the counter. She carefully kept her attention on the food in front of her, but Luke knew he'd been spotted.

In fact, when he glanced over at Lane, she was studiously avoiding his gaze. Rory was obviously there for more than just breakfast. Luke sighed and walked behind the counter, reaching for the coffee pot before he approached Rory. "More coffee?"

Rory looked up, her face scrubbed clean, her expression worried. "Please," she answered.

He poured, searching for something to say. He wanted to ask about Lorelai -- where she was, _how_ she was, whether she'd taken tequila to Christopher's again -- but he wouldn't put Rory in the middle. Plus, he probably owed Rory an apology anyway. "Sorry," he muttered. "I kind of... overreacted last night."

Rory's bright blue eyes narrowed. "What?" She toyed with her pancakes, moving the maple syrup around on her plate.

"That guy," Luke grimaced, trying to block out the image of some blonde punk with his hands on Rory. "You and that guy. It's none of my business, and I shouldn't have shouted."

Shaking her head just a little, Rory said, "It's okay to care, Luke. My mom's been known to overreact a time or two."

"Mmm-hmm," Luke managed, his breathing speeding up at the mere mention of Lorelai. But he still couldn't bring himself to ask.

Rory took a slow sip of coffee, probably waiting for him to break and start blabbering questions. When she placed the mug back on the counter, she sighed and folded her hands, fixing Luke with a penetrating stare. "Look, I don't know exactly what happened last night. Mom won't talk to me about it, because she doesn't want me to blame my dad."

Luke's throat burned, but he nodded his agreement. "You shouldn't blame him. This isn't his fault." Every single word hurt, but he got it out. No matter how much of an ass Rory's father was, it wasn't Christopher's fault that Lorelai was still hung up on him, years later.

"Then what is it?" Rory demanded, leaning closer and lowering her voice so the other customers couldn't overhear. "What happened?"

Luke simply shook his head. Frustrated, Rory pushed her plate away, her pancakes half-eaten, which told Luke more than enough about her state of mind. "Rory--"

"My mother would kill me if she knew I was here, but I've never seen her as happy as she has been the past few months. I warned my father not to ruin things, and you and Mom both said he didn't. So I don't know what happened, but I never thought you were the kind of guy who'd walk away."

It stung being talked to that way by the girl he loved as his own daughter. But Luke choked it down and said, his voice low, "I'm not walking away."

"You *did* walk away," Rory hissed. "You should've seen Mom's face when she got this." Rory slapped something onto the counter, and Luke recognized the note he'd left on the Jeep.

He winced, reaching for it and crumpling the note in his fist. "Rory, you weren't supposed--"

"I wasn't supposed to what? I wasn't supposed to care?" Rory demanded. She shook her head angrily. "I love you both, and you obviously love each other, so I don't know what the problem is."

"You're right," Luke said. "I do love your mother. That's never been the problem."

Rory looked like she wanted to slap him. "Are you saying she doesn't love you? That's crazy."

But Luke simply shook his head and straightened up. "I have customers." He tossed the note in a perfect arc toward the trash.

"Luke," Rory said, grabbing his sleeve. "I'm telling you, my mother--"

"Spent the night with your father and lied about it," Luke interrupted loudly.

"Oh, no." Rory paled, her grip on his sleeve growing slack. "Luke, that wasn't--"

He pulled free of her grasp. "Don't, Rory. This is between me and your mother."

"No, that was my fault," Rory said in a rush. "I was worried about my father and I told Mom to visit him. And I'm the one who lied about it, because I didn't want you to worry or think anything--"

"Your mother's an adult," Luke answered grimly. "She made her own decisions."

"Luke," Rory said urgently, "nothing happened. I swear, she would never--"

"And she would never have lied if she really believed I'd have no reason to be upset." Luke grabbed the coffee pot and stormed off, realizing belatedly that pretty much everyone in the diner was listening in on the conversation at this point. "Dammit," he muttered, splashing coffee into Kirk's cup and ignoring the stares. "Lane," he hollered, "Can you cover for another hour?"

Lane nodded, exchanging worried looks with Rory as Luke deposited the coffee pot down with a clatter and headed for the door. He dug his keys out of his pocket and had his truck unlocked when he heard footsteps behind him. Hanging his head, Luke didn't bother to turn. "Rory."

"No. Not Rory."

Luke jerked, every muscle in his body tensing. He couldn't turn to look at her. He wasn't ready to face her. "Lorelai."

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said quietly. "Christopher--"

"Don't," Luke interrupted. He steeled himself and turned. She was standing there in jeans and her bright pink winter coat, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. "I can't talk about this right now."

She shook her head, her expression carefully schooled, but her eyes were red and a little bit swollen. "I don't know what he was talking about, Luke. I swear, my mother--"

"I can't," Luke repeated, more loudly. "I need some time."

Lorelai glanced away, angling her face down, staring at the pavement. "Oh."

Luke sighed. "Lorelai, there's a lot--"

"You're right," she said, nodding.

"Listen, I just need a day," Luke said, even now trying to comfort her. No matter what, he couldn't bear to see her hurting. "I'm angry, and I don't want to say anything I'll regret."

"Okay," Lorelai said, straightening and giving him a ghost of a smile. "But I need to apologize. I shouldn't have lied about Christopher."

Luke nodded, but the apology didn't help a bit. She was sorry for lying, sure, but Luke wasn't convinced that she'd actually considered _why_ she'd lied in the first place. He shifted a little. "I'm sorry for taking off like that."

It was Lorelai's turn to nod. "You'll call later?"

It was a promise he didn't want to make, since he wasn't sure when he'd be ready for the conversation they needed to have. But he dipped his chin once. "Yeah."

"Okay." She gave him another half-smile and took a step backwards.

"Okay," Luke echoed. After a moment, he opened the truck door and slid inside. As he pulled away from the curb, he glanced into his rearview mirror. Lorelai stood on the sidewalk watching him, with Rory beside her, one arm wrapped around her mother.

That was what he needed to think about. That family. Was he the kind of man who could be happy with whatever Lorelai could give him, just to be a part of that family?

Could he ever be satisfied with _for now_?

THE END


End file.
